


I'll love you forever, and ever, and more

by Rain_And_Sunflowers



Category: We Need to Talk About Kevin - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Heartbreak, I cried while writing this, Party, Reader Insert, Sociopathic Love, Teen Romance, Unhealthy Love, a relationship that shouldv'e been, after the unexpected chapter 2 it just didn't fit, god knows why I wrote this, like I could make a happy ending but where's the fun in that?, mad love, psychotic love, pyromaniac, x Reader, yes I title changed it, you - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-11-29 01:52:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18216602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rain_And_Sunflowers/pseuds/Rain_And_Sunflowers
Summary: (Reader x Kevin Khatchadourian) A short lesson in Heartbreak.Maybe for a sick few weeks, I started to accept his torture as part of our relationship. I fell for him too hard too quickly, and after a year of being together, I still feel as if I barely knew him. And there is no true way of truly knowing him, without either fearing, or hating him.  Some nights I enjoyed not even seeing or talking to him at the parties, it was better that way. It has become, more natural, easier, to just not talk to him at all. No matter how much it hurts, I know it’s right.





	1. Chapter 1

The cuff of my jumper had started to fray this past hour, though I could not even recall when I first started pulling at it with my fidgeting hand. And my fingers are starting to become numb from the repeated action. Cracked nail polish I should have redone before the party falls away in suit, I liked this jumper. I’m going to burn it later. 

The night is a delicate balance of warm air and a cool breeze, that clashes with the energetic music which fills every inch of this house. It’s loud and evasive, I can’t even catch onto the beat, but nothing can drown out this mood. I’m painfully aware of that, and as much as I would love to go downstairs and turn it up several notches, I don’t believe there is any louder option. 

 

I know it would be rude to ask, considering the hour is already late, but who’s house was this anyways? What did I come here to celebrate? I remember picking out a group gift at the mall last Saturday, I found it too hot inside and I broke out into an embarrassing sweat. We ate burgers for lunch and I didn’t even bother wasting my money on a meal I wouldn’t eat that day; My stomach has been filled with rocks for weeks. I remember dressing myself up for this evening, glaring at the mirror with uneven make up and my trembling hands. I broke a fishnet a decided against trying on another. The terror of the evening was looming over me, anxiety becoming electricity in my veins. It was painful, and I grabbed the first jumper in my wardrobe for comfort. I should have looked. I left my room in a dazzling shade of red as the sunset painted my walls for the evening. I car pooled to this address with people I had never met, but they still greeted me with smiles. 

 

The decoration was actually quite lovely, I did take note. Not much to do when your phone is dead and social stamina alike. I skipped past the drinks and snacks, which I would have loved to devour if this party had been a few months ago. When my first few conversations grew as boring as the painted walls at school, I decided that tonight was not for me, and escaped to the second floor balcony to watch the party. The colourful bulb lights, strung between the roof gutters, illuminated the tables and bean bags and inflatable couch. You had stair access to the backyard beneath, where the lit pool was being currently used by insanely hyper teenagers. In just an hour I observed a whole three games of failed volleyball, a pool noodle army fighting for what looked like a rubber duck, a few belly-flops and 55 cannonballs. Not to mention the couples making out. Then Beer Pong started and many left the pool to act as an improv cheer team. 

I liked this party. Any teenager would. It was a shame my hands had not stopped shaking, and that I couldn’t leave. 

 

He arrived after me, as usual. Late, as usual. And wearing, the usual. Yet he still brought in crowd with his magnetic energy. And I could appreciate that they gave him distraction, and all the fun he needed. After all Kevin doesn’t just come to parties for the sake of attendance, he always had a second agenda. He never even cared where his girlfriend was throughout the night.

I bet he wouldn’t even miss a beat if I started making out with someone. Right. In. Front. Of. Him.

He came in half an hour ago, I only knew because someone downstairs cheered ‘Khatchadourian’. Who else in this entire country has such a ridiculous family name?  
He didn’t look for me, or ask where I was, if I came; It’s not something that I could’ve heard, I just know he didn’t. He never does. He stuck to the bottom floor doing god knows what. Then when Beer Pong started he, interestingly enough, wandered outside. 

I love his eyes, I hate to say it. When I first met him, they were the first thing that caught my attention. He looked as if he knew the secrets to everything. And I mistook something in them for softness, for natural curiosity. Now all I see is a nonchalant stare, the observant sweep of a room, the glint when he spies prey. 

We lock eyes tonight for the first time, as I’m leaning over the balcony, still seated on a bar stool. My ankles are crossed and I feel my demeanor to anyone looks bored. I’m just a pretty, bored girl, sitting alone on a party balcony. And when I lock eyes with him, I’m reminded why no one would even dare come my way with mischievous intent. 

An involuntary shiver jolts through me, goosebumps hidden by long sleeves, as he carelessly tilts his head upwards, seemingly as though he knew all along where I was situated. It felt similar to a game of hide and seek, but one where the seeker told you the exact place which you must flee. He doesn’t wave, or smile, or nod. Looking at me was his greeting. He keeps his eyes on me long enough to assert our knowledge of each other, then he casually drops his gaze, and continues with whatever mind games he was pulling tonight.  
He frightens people, somewhat. I believe I was overly excited to tell friends at school we were dating. I use to constantly find myself being flirted with, hit on at gatherings and parties. Then Kevin began making his moves on me, and it was as if every man on Earth stopped finding me attractive. I can’t imagine him threatening anyone over me, he’s never shown any possessive traits over me. I’ve come to a conclusion that other people that know Kevin just don’t want to fall out of his favour. 

I miss kissing strangers. 

While his gaze dropped, I continued to stare at my hearts most wanted possession. A boy that seemly could not love back. I use to see everything though a shade of Rose, fooling myself that every action he did was wonderful. That any words spoken to me were out of love. I adored his smile and his intellect. I use to complete homework or read books as he practiced archery. Then he’d notice me staring at him for too long, my attention transfixed to his beauty, like a marble statue of a Greek god, and he would smirk with the cockiest attitude before pulling me in for a kiss. When he still use to kiss me. Which doesn’t matter, as much as I miss those soft lips, because it’s worse that he doesn’t even talk to me.

I noticed his ticks too late in the relationship. Too many dates and too many secrets in. The way he didn’t quite treat everyone as human, or on par with him. As if we were participants in his game, or a new sub-par species to be watched. The way he would fake his grades to be average, the way he would collect computer viruses, and I never questioned his clothing sense. It also annoys me that I had never seen him eat in front of me, ever. And how, though almost undetectably and what I thought I had just imagined, resentful he was towards his own little sister. 

My mother would call me and Kevin inseparable, and likewise Eva would openly welcome me into her home whenever I pleased. I should have watched her more then I watched Kevin. She always seemed to have this look on her face when I was with her son. Not that motherly protection, no, she always looked at me more. On edge, worried, biting back words. She had the expression of a woman who was letting her puppy play with a precious toy; and I was that toy, and she wanted to pull me away as quickly as possible. I overlooked the relationship Kevin and his mother had. Much as I had overlooked Kevin. Skipped right into everything wonderful about him, if there ever were such things.

Our first party together was my first red flag. That one was at a good friend’s house, dear lord, nothing could have gone worse for me that night. The amount of people that buzzed into that house, it must have held many gate crashers. She didn’t care. And that night I lost Kevin within the first 20 minutes of entering. At least, back then I would have said lost, compared to the facts I now hold, he knowingly took his chance and slipped away from me. I was left alone to face questions of “Where is your boyfriend?. “Oh, he’s around here somewhere” I laughed, hiding deep down my bitterness, and the cold stab he had given me by leaving me alone. He knew I didn’t like being left without warning.

I worked myself into such a panic that by the end of the night I thought he wanted to break up with me. He gave me an impossibly hard to decipher sigh, probably meant for himself, and coolly reassured me he just got ‘caught up’ with some friends. But that was a lie I easily looked through. Though I nodded as believably as possible, soothing down my dress and giving him a loving smile, my heart broke in that moment. I never told anyone how I cried myself to sleep, the restless hours having me rethink my whole relationship with Kevin Khatchadourian.

And his attitude from that party continued into life. He was too busy for me suddenly, and some days I would be over at his house having tea with Eva as substitute for my loneliness. She was a darling woman, and she spoke to me a lot about travel. The memories she was conjuring up would get her so worked up in her nostalgia, I would wonder sometimes if she would notice if I left. Would she continue monologuing to herself? She told me many places to visit, but many sentences ended along the lines of “take a friend” “It’s a good solo trip.” Somehow her knowledge of Kevin’s loveless nature was reassuring. It was only a shame I was still full of love, being the idiot I am, I could not stop falling for any date invites (he stood up 2), or casual hang outs (which was always just me sitting alone as he either payed more attention to his friends or practiced archery). And of course, I had to learn my lessons more than once, as I kept ‘taking’ him to parties. 

 

It was 11:30pm, which was probably an early time to finish, when I walked around the house with a drunken buzz, asking the remaining guests if they had seen my boyfriend. In fact, one did. They said he left over an hour ago. My heart sank so quickly, I could almost throw up. My insides twisted along with that, I felt a slight wobble in my step. The very air I was breathing was tainted with betrayal. And I still had the strength to laugh and pretend that I ‘totally forgot’ he had told me he was going. 

And so, he left me that first night. The gut wrenching feeling of our first blunder was nothing compared to this, the pain practically tenfold. I didn’t even bother telling him I was upset, he knew. And it became habit afterwards that we never left at the same time. Not too soon after that habit, Kevin started telling me to not worry about picking him up beforehand, and he would arrive whenever. The exact word ‘whenever’. 

I stopped even trying to find him, I supposed he didn’t come to every outing I told him about. I’m sure he didn’t invite me along to every outing he was told about.

My seating area is becoming crowded, and I’m sure my limbs have gone numb from staying in the same position for so long. I hop off the bar stool, noticing the beer pong group had dissipated a while ago, and carefully place one foot after another as I quietly descend the wooden stairs to the backyard. At the bottom I see one of the numerous ice buckets scatted around the property that hold drinks. I grab one at random, just to hold, just to stop pulling at my cuffs, and wander over to the now crowdless pool. Still a few swimmers in the shallow end, but no one of bother. 

As I sit cross legged on a dry piece of concrete, my mind starts regurgitating more memories of the past I repressed, as if tonight the stars cannot take my lying. I grip the bottle painfully as I observe the still healing wound on my upper thigh. My shorts are long enough to cover it, but sitting like this hikes them up enough. 

It happened at the worst party, two weeks ago. I arrived a bit later then planned, and way later then the party started. It was in full riot, and I wondered if I wanted to even bother staying. Right when I was debating over joining the ruthless chugging contest, or finding one of my classmates tolerable enough to hang around with, a fight broke out. It was violent, as any fight gets. I foolishly rushed to the sound of breaking glass and cursing. There had never been a moment with such awful timing in my life. Just as I turned the corner, pushing past a small crowd, one of the brawlers lunged at the other. As he knocked the other over, I had been just in the line of danger, his hand still clutching the broken bottle, the jaggered glass slicing through the thin fabric of my outfit and catching my thigh, carving though me as I went down with the other two.

The fight stopped immediately at the sight of blood, soaking my dress and pooling onto the floor. Adrenaline pumped through me, putting a pause on the pain. Through the worried crowd and my now franticly anxious attackers swarmed me, I saw Kev. I knew immediately who started the fight, or should I say, ignited it. He didn’t look the least bit concerned as we locked eyes, and he turned away from the scene. I bit my cheek and held pressure with a towel as someone drove me to the hospital, we couldn’t call an ambulance to a party of underage drinkers. I listened to my cover story so many times they were the only words out of my mouth for several hours.  
It was all an accident. Wasn’t it, my love?

 

Maybe for a sick few weeks, I started to accept his torture as part of our relationship. I fell for him too hard too quickly, and after a year of being together, I still feel as if I barely knew him. And there is no true way of truly knowing him, without either fearing, or hating him. Some nights I enjoyed not even seeing or talking to him at the parties, it was better that way. It has become, more natural, easier, to just not talk to him at all. No matter how much it hurts, I know it’s right. 

 

I leave my drink by the pool, unopened. My head spins, I’ve become a rush of thoughts. Am I not good enough for him? Why would a boy like him even choose to date me? In fact, it’s odder the fact that he chose to date. How much of our time together was a lie? I cannot tell. But he’s upset me too much, I would actually dread to know the answer. I would rather pretend that some of it, some of our time together, was real. No matter if it were all fake.

I walk back into the house, as willingly as possible. I do not want to pretend I do not love him; I do. In every moment of existence, no matter how devastated I felt, no matter how much hurt there was in me; I loved the boy as foolishly as possible. I loved how handsome he was, how I could trace his face for hours and still get lost in it, how we use to talk for hours on end and it felt like minutes, the way my hands easily combed through his hair, and how he would hold me when I felt my world was crashing and somehow become an ocean of calm I could fall into.

Oh, I am madly in love with Kevin Khatchadourian. And I know, can’t change that. But I know he doesn’t love me, he could never love me. To end my misery in this paper-thin relationship is all I can do. I feel choked by that feeling, a gap in my chest, my immunity to this pain now worn off, just like the pain of the glass, it comes sharp, the agony screaming for my attention. It doesn’t wear away, but I can’t cry. Not just yet. 

In the end, I’ve been learning to lose him, haven’t I? The distance we’ve been keeping, the separation from each other is apparent. I saw this coming from the first party, I saw this coming from the last. His jacket that I done tonight would have had to be the closest thing to contact we have had in a month. I want this to all be over. 

I reach the door well enough, turn the cold handle, and take my first steps onto the front porch. My house is only a few blocks away, I can make it safely home. Then I notice the door never fully shut behind me. Huh, guess he took notice I was going to leave. Didn’t think that would happen. Yet again, Kevin surprises me.

“Enjoy your night?” He smirks, his query sounding more bored then anything. He still looks like the most gorgeous man I have ever seen, under a porch light. 

“Enjoy yours?” My voice just above a whisper. 

“I am still enjoying it, in fact.” Still smirking, he looks behind me, almost a roll of his eyes. Left and right, the front yard home to a few party goes having various conversations. “Just wanted to say goodnight, that’s all.”

I almost chuckle in madness. Goodnight, huh? He never wishes me a goodnight anymore. But I have no room for another conversation. In my heart, I cannot find the right way to express what I’m going through. I want so very very badly to both push him down the porch steps, but also lean in and press my lips against his, one last time. 

“Call you later. Goodbye.”

I say to him, the words almost foreign to me, as he opens that devilish mouth of his to talk more pointless words. He can’t fill my head with more beautiful lies. The last word comes out softer then I wanted, but blunt nonetheless. Very final.

‘Goodbye’ Echo’s between us. The music seems to stop, and it’s just me and him alone on the porch, eyes meeting. For the first time I think he notices how tired, how defeated I look. And I leave him at that, as I turn away and walk towards the front gate. 

The blood rushing through my ears covers up any sound he could have made. I don’t look back to see if he said anything, stood and watched me leave, or simply stepped back inside. Now, it doesn’t matter. The final bell has toll. He never stopped me leaving. 

I let the tears fall freely down my face as I walk home.  
They are hot and never-ending. But they feel comforting. I finally cry out my heart, months of repressing the hurt and confusion and rejection. This time I sob because I’ve escaped. It’s both devastating to lose him, and so very satisfying to finally let go. My knees tremble, but I power on. Soon, in between the sobs and sniffles, I’m laughing. I’m smiling through snot and tears. 

 

Everything is better now. It’s going to be fine. I like it better this way, don’t I?


	2. Chapter 2

Before, I never noticed her.

 

She was in half my classes, yet after one glance at beginning of term, I decided she wasn’t worth much. Another girl, another bland story, another uninteresting human. She turned to white noise before the first week ended, her name and face stored in the back of my head like the rest of that class.

Each party was as boring as the last. The same stories, same kids getting drunk dancing to the same bland songs and crying about the same problems. To bother showing up was a mind-numbing hassle.

That particular night I was eavesdropping, taking secrets, and generally finding out facts about my classmates that could prove useful. They were so easily manipulated, I didn’t need much. Though the drama is boring, being control is exciting. 

 

Stalking through the crowds and drunken fools, I made my way outside. My first breath of fresh air for the night soothed whatever headache these people caused me. My bliss was soon disturbed by a giggling fit of girls, and in the most controlled face of displeasure, I glanced over to what I was dealing with. 

Time stopped in that moment, like it never had before. My brain scrambled to find a memory to fit the girl I saw and I faintly remembered my classmate. But how could that even be the same person I saw in school? It was as if I saw her in a different light that night. The moment I looked over to the corner of girls sitting around the bonfire, I could feel for the first time in my life, my heart skipping a beat. 

Her face was illuminated in the golden flames, that bathed her entire body in that delicious colour. Yes, red certainly couldn’t outshine her, it was her that made red ablaze with glory. The way it stained her perfectly shaped lips, and illuminated her fierce eyes. Her dress was only too perfect of a fit; It’s either she knew how to dress, or she could still radiate royalty in rags. I couldn’t stop taking her in, there was nothing distressing or chaotic to her stature. She in fact, looked perfectly on par with a spiteful deity, that grew bored of her realm and decided to indulge in a teenage party, forgetting that she was too stunning, ethereal in every way, to not stand out.

 

My jaw couldn’t stay unhinged for more then a second, I couldn’t let anyone notice, though I doubt anyone around here was paying any attention to me. But I was embarrassed, yes, that I had even given her a second glance. Not even a second glance, and entire thought process that extenuated how beautiful I found her. That was frightening, but for the moments I saw her in my vision, that was interesting. Exhilarating. 

Carefully plotting my way towards her circle, I busied myself with the group of boys playing table tennis nearby. I could catch onto every word she said, lord, her voice was unlike any tone I had heard. Does she speak in class? I wonder how I had missed such a hypnotic sound. I would have rather listened to her reading out a phone-book then let any song play. 

I needed her to keep talking, her boundless ideas and creative views. Her love for art and her wild plans for the future. I craved it. I craved every inch of her.  
No, Kevin that’s crazy. You need to stop, these thoughts and this yearning, it’s just the night. You’re not entertained. You’ve made false thoughts, she’s not all that. 

But somehow, somehow…

Making a rash decision, I leave her perimeter, and make my way over to the beer chugging teenagers. Mainly shirtless males, somehow concerned with the amount of liquor they can consume. But I don’t care for the taste, I don’t care for the social aspect. I care for the distraction, and for once, the need to not be sober.  
The boys are excited to see me, I haven’t shown interest in this before. I wait my turn, going against every urge to back away. Listen to your own smarts. Yet the time passes quickly, soon, I’m being cheered on as I reach for the tube, and put it to my mouth.

It tastes bitter. She would be sweet. It’s uncomfortable in my body. She would feel perfect in my arms. I chug to forget her face, yet the image only grows stronger the more I swallow. Soon, I have completed the trials set by the boys; I have chugged the most amount of beer. I have impressed only them, though I feel shame. They like this, huh? So dumb, so boring.

But I take the victory, and cheer with the crowd. I laugh, in her direction, and suddenly notice she’s closer, meters from me. So, the girl wandered over to the contest. When did she come?

And why is she smiling like that? 

That look should be too precious for anyone else to see. 

 

-

 

Loving her was too easy, terrifying so. 

After the party, we talked daily. She just couldn’t stop revealing her perfect traits. She loved to read, she would gladly talk philosophy, she could gladly talk any topic; good with running on whatever she got. She could make any tedious subject turn into the most entertaining fact. The dreariest days into adventures. I started listening to her taste in music, started reading books she liked behind her back. I’d let her play with my hair for hours as she described memories from her childhood, movies she’d watched, her day at school. Anything was worthwhile. But her passion for travel, oh dear, the travel parts I only grimaced at. It’s like something mum would talk about. And I didn’t want it getting in her head that she needed to be anywhere else but with me.

 

Wait, always with me? That didn’t sound like a rational thought. 

 

I made too many mistakes with her. Everything with this treasure was too good for me. The dates we went ice skating, and star gazing, and visiting art galleries just for us to eat snacks and laugh at the “Enlightening” paintings (she would never let me make fun of Van Gough, as if something about him resonated somewhere deep in her soul). 

She built pillow forts like a kid, and I wasn’t scornful. She watched my archery, and her eyes burned with the same intensity I had for her. It melted me, seeing her like that. The adoration that filled her, all that love for someone who was pure sin. Though I could barely stand it, I turned to her, hiding that thought, and smirked just to watch her blush. When I leaned down to kiss her, with that irresistible mouth of hers, we both fell so deeply into each other. She tasted, just as I thought, sweet. Did I taste bitter to her? Could she taste my lies?

I held her tightly, for I knew in that moment I had to let her go. And as much as she would break from that, I knew I would completely shatter.

 

-

 

I knew what she loved, I knew what she hated. So, I knew how to let her go. Slowly, and painfully, to the point that she would have to be the one that broke us up. It was almost funny that I wished she would live through all the pain, because if she never budged, I’m not sure how long I would be able to keep her suffering. 

On a night she told me she didn’t really feel socially active, I purposefully left her to gallop around with my other peers. I almost stopped this entire idea when she looked on the verge of tears at the end of the night. But I am heartless, and I faked a smile and a comforting sentence. She knew I was lying, that hurt even more.

I went bolder the next time, actually leaving before her. How she would hate me, the betrayal was surely a deal breaker for most relationships, but not ours. My house was an hour walk away, and I used every minute in that cold air to reflect on us. 

I wonder what she was going to do with my jacket once we split? All our belongings at each other’s houses, would she bother to collect any? I wouldn’t. I’d prefer she burn anything left, just as everything had started. With fire.

 

-

 

Her love for me never grew less intense. This was becoming impossible to keep up, but there is no way to explain to her my mind. How cold I am, and have been. How I don’t want to travel, I don’t want my own children, don’t want to leave this world without putting my own mark on it. This world is disgusting, yet she can see light in all places. Even in me. For once, I didn’t know what my future held. 

 

-

 

For this party I had purposefully arrived uncomfortably late. The type where she might not even notice I was here at all. Yet my cover is blown as soon as I walked through the door. “Khatchadourian” Was being cheered, of course this idiot of a peer had to let my presence be known. I plastered on the most painful smile and pretended as if I was having the time of my life, even though this entire day has annoyed me to the point of wanting to strangle every person in this room. 

 

When I saw her for the first time this night, I can only be glad for my fowl mood. It made my eyes seem as neutral as possible. She was sitting up on the balcony, posed gracefully, and looking as beautiful as ever. She was even wearing my jacket, that hurt to see her even more. Could no one else notice she looked to be slightly yearning? As if she had a burning itch to do something worthwhile but was shackled down to that chair. I’m sure she would have had some guys try talk to her, break that misery. But I scared off every other guy and girl that tried to touch her, I’ve made sure she was alone. How terrible. I had to admire that she took to observing people as much as me.

In this light, if you put a crown on her it would change her wandering eyes into the gaze of a queen over her citizens. Who was really turning into the other?

 

I wanted to make her hurt, I looked away before anything else in me could change. My heart was hammering in my chest, urging me to not leave my girl up there alone. I want to go to her, console her, say sorry for these months and let out the truth of my actions. I was psychotic. I was unfit for her love. I was unfit for this world. 

I didn’t budge from beer pong. 

 

-

 

The night stilled as she approached the door. Slow, steady. A moment I was scared of. Her steps unsteady, but calculated. I ditched my current conversation just to quickly pace my way to that opening door. 

There is no explaining why I am so absolutely petrified in this moment. If I knew how to cry, I might’ve been holding back tears, though, aren’t I actually?

“Enjoy your night?” I smirk as I hang onto the doorframe, the basic face I’ve learned to hide all my emotions and secrets behind. She looks at me with a glassy expression, difficult to read. Yet still, so full of love, it’s hard to look straight at her.

“Enjoy yours?” No. I haven’t enjoyed anything for months. Nothing is fun without you anymore. Nothing is worth doing if you aren’t next to me. 

“I am still enjoying it, in fact” 

Fuck you idiot, those words are perfect. Perfectly made to doom you two. I look behind her, nonchalantly as possible. There are too many people for us to actually talk truth. I check them, no one seems of any harm. I know she lives close enough, I don’t like her walking home alone but what am I going to do? Offer her my hand to get her ‘Home safe’ like a faithful boyfriend? I’m suppose to tear us apart. 

“Just wanted to say Goodnight, that’s all.” I’ve signed the divorce papers in that line. 

For a moment, she almost looks as though she may laugh. It was nothing like me to say that. And then whatever spark of joy she had in that moment grows cold. More extinguished than a match flame in water. 

“Call you later. Goodbye.” The world is loud, but seemed to grow silent for those words to echo. 

A punch. I’ve won a fight I didn’t want to. Oh, my love, by darling of flames, so utterly tired and defeated by me. Crippled by my distance, cut with my harsh words, all the happiness I’ve ripped out of you, pretending I didn’t love you as much as I do. 

I want to speak more words but none ever leave my mouth. And she leaves.

I actually watch every step she takes to the front gate. She doesn’t give a second glace back at me. This was final.

This was the end. 

When she turns the corner, vanishes from my sight, I can’t bare to think anymore. 

I walk up to the front gate myself, wait a minute, to make sure she’s at least a block away, and walk out of the property. Leaving this entire night to crumble.  
My house takes me a different route home, so I won’t have to run into the love of my life crying. 

I don’t want to see the mess I’ve made her. The control I had over this. And she doesn’t need to see, that as I make my way home, moon half illuminating the tears, the mess she made me.

 

I’m crying too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided if I didn't write this today, it would never be written. That made this continuation turn out rather rushed, and not exactly what I expected. But this boy had been knocking on my head for the whole day, telling me the world can't think he actually hated his Queen
> 
> <3

**Author's Note:**

> Listened to 'Call me when the party's over' one too many times.  
> I hope you enjoyed some heartbreak. I've recently been getting over mine.


End file.
